


Constructive Criticism

by Palgrave (goldenrod)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Humor, Lovecraftian, Sassy, Sexual Tension, Unnecessary Cleavage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 06:59:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenrod/pseuds/Palgrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor's to the rescue. Donna has some criticisms to make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constructive Criticism

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XIV (Ninth Doctor / Donna, 'Sass'). Despite this, not really that porny, but I did try to introduce some sexual tension between Nine and Donna. It was surprisingly easy, I thought. :-)
> 
> Some slightly misogynistic language is used at one point towards a female character. The character using this language is intended to be a misogynist. Nevertheless, a warning for those who dislike this type of language.
> 
> Feedback and kudos, as ever, welcome and gratefully received; enjoy!

“You know what the Daleks call me?” The Doctor asks, his face like thunder. “The Oncoming Storm."

The multi-tentacled abomination from beyond the dawn of time flinches its tentacles back. It’s followers, unsettled by the signs of fear their God shows the scruffy leather-clad man before Him, keep their weapons aimed right at where the Doctor’s heart would be if he only had one (idiots). 

“You’ve heard the name, then,” the Doctor continues in a voice that is deceptively light and cheerful. “Good. There’s some other ones you might have heard as well. The Bringer of Darkness. The Last Man Standing. The Destroyer of Worlds.” 

The tentacles flinch back further. 

“I bet you have nightmares about me, don’t you?”

A screeching howl, the sound of nightmares, comes from some of it’s throats.

“Thought so. Right then. So I bet you know exactly what’s going to happen to you if you don’t --”

Before the Doctor can finish, a human female’s throat loudly clears above them. Everyone looks up at the redheaded woman suspended from an intricate web of red-and-black veins threaded through a complex arrangement of wooden bars shaped like pentacles glaring down at all of them. She is wearing a white dress (which, rather unnecessarily it had to be said, seems to be designed and fitted so as to emphasis the cleavage) that is only _slightly_ transparent due to the thin black liquid dripping down onto her.

“What’s he’s _basically_ trying to say,” she snaps peevishly, “is that he’s very big and scary, and he wants you to untie me and let us go and crawl back under a rock or he’s going mess your shit up big time, sonny.”

The Doctor glares back up at her. “Oi. Noble. We’ve discussed this. Don’t interrupt me when I’m being impressive.”

“Be impressive quicker, then,” Donna Noble snaps down. “My arms are beginning to hurt.”

“You can’t rush these things, you know. I have a reputation. An atmosphere to build.”

“There’s plenty of atmosphere up here, sunshine. And it _stinks_. Has this thing ever heard of washing?”

“Shut up and let me finish, I’ll buy it a loofah. Now _hush_.” The Doctor smiles at the abomination. “Sorry about that. Humans. Can’t take them anywhere. Now where were we?”

“You were about to show off a bit more,” Donna replies snidely.

The Doctor glares back up. “Less from the peanut gallery, thank you.”

“I’ll bloody peanut gallery you in a minute, space-boy.”

The abomination screeches again. One of cultists, who judging by the supreme ridiculousness of his hat is probably a high priest of some kind, decides that this would be a good time to intervene. “Cease this heresy! How dare you defile the Deity of Nightmares with this --”

The Doctor points at him. “Shut it, you. In the middle of something.” He glares back up. “Donna, I’m trying to rescue you from having your soul devoured by a psychokinetic omni-deitific quasi-entity from the hell-dimensions. Try and show a bit of dignity.”

“Dignity?!” Donna yells back. “Easy for you to say, you manky northern git. You’re not the one who’s been forced to dress like a numpty and suspended from whatever this bloody thing is by some pervy space virgins.”

The head cultist decides he’d like to try again, and that Donna might be an easier target. “Silence, whore! Your foul insolence will cause you sufferings the likes of which --”

He thinks wrong.

“Oh, shut it, you. You’re the worst of them. Don’t think I haven’t clocked your game, sunshine. Don’t think I don’t know exactly why you made me put this ridiculous thing on. You think Mr. Multi-Dimension over there cares if he can see my tits or not?”

The abomination screeches again. No one pays it any attention.

The head cultist makes one more valiant effort. “Silence! I will have respect!”

Both Donna and the Doctor look at him skeptically.

“Might want to get rid of the hat that looks like a mangled penis, then.”

“She’s got a point, there. What is it with you head priest types and stupid hats anyway?”

The head cultist gathers up what is left of his dignity and withdraws from the conflict. It doesn’t take long; by this point, he doesn’t have much dignity left. Especially not while wearing that hat. Meanwhile, their common target dealt with, the Doctor and Donna return to more pressing matters.

“Look, Donna, will you just let me get on with this, please?”

“Well hurry up! Something’s _dripping_ on me!”

“The more you argue with me, the longer it’ll take!”

The abomination screeches another soul-rending howl and makes weird squelching, grinding noises. If it wasn’t an omni-dimensional entity beyond the kin and understanding of mortal man and regarded that all cringed before it as little more than ants to be brushed away, you could be forgiven for thinking that it was beginning to feel a bit ignored. 

“And you can shut it, as well.” The Doctor snaps. “Donna, are you gonna let me do this or not?”

“ _Fine_ , just hurry up!”

“Fine!” The Doctor turns back to the abomination and clears his throat.

And stands there. Everyone looks at him expectantly.

“I’ve forgotten where I was, now,” The Doctor complains, glaring back up pointedly at Donna.

“Oh for God’s sake, Doctor, just skip the bloody lecture and get me out of here!”  


“Fine!” The Doctor yells back childishly. He pulls his sonic screwdriver out of his jacket pocket, points it at the abomination before anyone knows what’s happening, and presses the button, 

Chaos ensues.

 

*

 

“Well,” the Doctor says happily afterwards, as the TARDIS engines grind away and send the ship spinning through space and time once again, “that went well.”

Donna drips in the corner and glares at him for a full half minute in silence. The black ichor covering her from head to toe trickles through the grating in the floor.

“”I’m glad someone had fun,” she replies pointedly.

“Look at it this way,” the Doctor says, “went better than your wedding, didn’t it?”

Donna’s mood doesn’t improve. “Yeah, that helps; the fact that being put into a neckline that would make a stripper blush and fed to some bog-monster from outside the universe _still_ was an improvement over the day the man I thought I was going to spend my life with almost fed me to a giant spider. Nice one.”

“Glad to help,” the Doctor replies cheerfully, either because he doesn’t pick up on the sarcasm or because he’s trying to irritate her even more. Either option is possible at this point. “Now go and get changed. You’re dripping all over my TARDIS.”

Donna huffs. “It’s your fault; took you long enough to get me down.”

“If you hadn’t interrupted, it would have gone much quicker and much smoother. As I’ve said, Donna; there’s a reason we don’t interrupt me when I’m being impressive.” The Doctor pulls a lever on the console and presses some buttons. It doesn’t make Donna think he knows what he’s doing in the slightest, but it makes him happy all the same. “Still, credit where due; handled yourself very well back there, Noble. Not many people could look a quasi-entity in nineteen of it’s eyes and worry about their neckline.”

The exasperated look Donna shoots him as she trudged towards the interior doors is nevertheless full of affection. “Bet it just made you want to rip this dress right off me and take me right there, didn’t it Doctor?” She calls back over her shoulder.  


The Doctor grins back at her.

“Well, when don’t I, Donna?” he replies. 


End file.
